Becoming Dean
by kinkylittlered
Summary: Sam has always been a spoiled rich kid, living with his distant father. On his 16th birthday Sam receives his new slave, Dean. Dean is meant to serve as only a sex slave but things quickly fall into confusing ground. Slash!
1. Chapter 1

(A/N: I am posting this again, it seems I messed some names up. Oops! Sorry)

Sam Winchester loved his life; he loved that he could wake up every morning wrapped in lush sheets with the smells of the beautiful tropic tumbling in through the window. Sam Winchester loved that he could spend his day lounging by the pool rather than attending school because his father had paid them to grant his every wish. Sam Winchester loved that he had slaves to attend to his every desire. In all honestly, Sam Winchester loved Sam Winchester. He had been taught from an early age that he needed to protect himself and forget everyone else, because in the end you die alone. Sam never felt guilty when he beat his slaves into submission; it never occurred to him that it was wrong.

Sam awoke to the sounds of footsteps outside his bedroom door, hushed voices filling the air before a small knock echoed off the stained wood. Sam pulled the plush blankets over his head in an attempt to avoid his morning wake up call. There was no escape on this day, after all Sam was now sixteen and legally old enough to purchase his own personal slave. The law clearly stated the slaves were not to perform sexual intercourse with any masters under the age of sixteen, however once a master reached the age of consent he or she was allowed to purchase a slave dedicated solely to sexual intercourse. Sam had mixed feelings about the thought of obtaining a slave for that specific purpose. The source of his mixed feelings was simple: Sam liked men. Naturally, his father was aware of his sexual orientation and accepted it easily enough. Still, there was a certain social pressure to obtain a sex slave of the opposite sex. Sam couldn't help but cringe at the thought of having to pretend to engage in any sort of sexual act with a woman.

"Samuel, please get out of bed. Your father would like to see you in order to arrange your afternoon activities." His maid Danneel peeked in at him from behind the door, slight fear covering her features.

"I will be out in a moment, leave." Sam rolled his eyes before throwing the blankets from his body. Padding across the cold hardwood floor, Sam pulled the doors to his closet open. The inside was immaculate, clothes hanging in organized rows on either side and leading back to a row of shoes against the far side. Sam pulled an Armani suit free from the hangers before hastily throwing it on. He cared very little about fashion, but he knew better than to approach John Winchester in anything but the finest clothing.

Sam walked into his father's office, hair combed over and his shirt tucked. His father was dressed similarly, and angrily yelling into his phone. With a hand motion, Sam was seated across from his father, the expanse of the desk separating the two men. Sam couldn't help but fidget awkwardly as he waited for his father to end his business call. The moments trickled by slowly, until John Winchester finally set his phone down with a slight thump.

"Samuel, I have arranged for an appropriate slave to be delivered. He is currently waiting downstairs. I have some paperwork you need to sign before you visit with him. After that you may spend the day as you wish, your gifts are being moved into our bedroom as we speak. The party will begin at seven and I expect you to be on time, with your new slave dressed formally. You may leave." John waved his hand in the direction of the door before once again moving his phone to his ear.

Sam couldn't hide his slight smile as he left the office, relief washing over him with the realization that he would have a male slave. Happily taking the steps two at a time, Sam rushed down as quickly as his long legs would carry him. His breath caught as his eyes fixed on a man with bright green eyes and dark blond hair. The man looked nervous, his eyes fixed on the tile beneath his feet, and his hands tightly clenched behind his back. All at once, Sam knew that he would make this man his.

"Hello," Sam's voice was smooth velvet echoing through the high ceilinged room.

"Hello, master." The man's voice was low, his eyes still firmly locked on the floor.

"Join me in my room. I have some presents that you are going to help me sort through." Sam's grin was almost cat like as he returned up the curved staircase.

"But…I'm not…? Don't you have maids?" His voice was thick with confusion, his green eyes finally snapping up to stare at Sam.

"Yes, I do. But, your mine and you will do whatever I tell you to. Now get your ass upstairs and unwrap my presents." Sam pointed in the direction of his bedroom, a small smile playing off his lips.

The man followed silently behind, his green eyes once again memorizing the floor. Sam couldn't help but smile as the man shuffled into his room, his breath catching at the sheer size of the room. A large bed with a wooden canopy and velvet curtains sat in the center of the room, silk sheets peeking from under the luxurious blankets. The room was circular, French doors leading to the in suite bathroom and another set leading to the walk in closet. The soft tones of the room were off set by the rich tones of the red velvet sofa placed in front of a large entertainment center. A large desk with an apple computer stood in the opposite corner. Windows lined the wall behind the bed, floor to ceiling, a perfect view of the city and the ocean beyond.

"Beautiful," Dean looked surprised to hear his own voice, a blush quickly gracing his features.

"Yeah, when John built the house I designed my room. I like the windows because I can see the ocean from here." Sam smiled as he stared thoughtfully out the window.

"Should I begin opening the presents now?" Dean's eyes shifted to the large pile of wrapped gifts, all aimed to please his new master.

"Nah, you're my actual gift so I'm not really worried about those. I have everything I want." Sam shrugged, his smile bright and fake. "I actually just said that to mess with you."

"What should I do, master?" Dean awkwardly shuffled, unsure of where he was supposed to stand.

"Just sit on my bed? I don't care. I mean John bought you for me with one idea in mind and I don't see why you should be concerned with anything else." Sam shrugged; looking a bit confused himself as he gaped at his new slave. "Isn't that how this works?"

"I think it works however you want it to work." Dean moved to perch on the edge of the bed, his hands folded neatly in his lap.

"Are you going to sleep with me? I know that my father's slave sleeps on the floor, as does my mother's but I think that is because they are married and expected to sleep in the same bed. Don't you…have training on this?" Sam continued to stare out the floor to ceilings window, his shoulders hard as he concentrated on the new situation at hand.

"I…no I'm afraid I am only educated on ways to please you sexually." Dean looked ashamed, as though he suddenly felt in adequate.

"Oh, well that's what you are here for. So, um, yeah it's fine." Sam walked towards the bed, kneeing his way to stand between Dean's legs.

Sam leaned in to press his lips gently against Dean's before pulling completely away. There was an awkward second where Dean leaned in as if to kiss Sam again, only to pull away in shock. Sam smiled and moved forward to once more crash their lips together. Sam's tongue kitten licked against Dean's lips before he forced his way in. Teeth clashing together roughly before tongues began to collide and dance. Sam let his hands roughly shove at his slave's shirt, pushing the material up his chest. Pulling Dean free of the material, Sam gaped slightly at the firm expanse of muscle perfectly formed in six squares along the man's chest. Freckles dotted over the perfect skin of Dean's shoulders and back. Leaning down, Sam softly lapped at the freckles.

Dean shivered under Sam, whose fingertips moved in a trail up the slaves back in an attempt to take in all of the rough curves of well-defined muscle. Sam pulled Dean to his feat by his belt loops, their bodies slamming together briefly before Sam made quick work of removing Dean's pants. Pushing the material down, Sam stared at the erection peeking through the tented boxers. Once again he was taken back by the realization that Dean was stunning. Sam pushed the material down, his breath sucking in when all of Dean finally came into view.

"Undress me, now." Sam's words were harsh, his voice deep with lust.

His slave's fingers were nimble as they slide Sam's suit jacket away, letting it fall with a small thud to the floor. It was all moving too slowly as Dean's fingers worked the buttons of Sam's dress shirt. Finally, Sam took both ends of the shirt and pulled, buttons snapping off and flying across the room. Together they pulled his undershirt away, Dean quickly working Sam's pants until he stood in silk boxers.

"I…I want to watch you prep yourself." Sam's voice shook slightly and he attempted to push away fear practically bleeding through his words. He was in control, Sam Winchester was always in control. "There is… uh, lube in the drawer."

Dean simply nodded and moved to pull the small bottle from the bedside table, his hands shaking slightly. Lying down on his side, Dean slicked his fingers before circling his tight hole. Sliding in knuckle deep, Dean gasped at the sudden full feeling overwhelming him. The pain was more than he had expected, but the expecting eyes of his master forced him to push deeper. Moving his finger slowly, Dean began to adjust to the feeling, his body relaxing enough for him to slide another finger inside. Crooking his finger, Dean trembled as a sudden wave of pleasure flashed through his body. Scissoring his fingers, he worked quickly to stretch his muscle. The third finger was more pain than pleasure, but he pushed on, needing to please his master.

"I'm ready." Dean's voice shook slightly as he pulled his fingers free.

"Have you ever done this before?" Sam pulled his boxers off as he spoke, hissing as his erection hit the cool air.

"No, we are taught how to please but we do not touch or have sexual intercourse until we are bought." Dean smiled, forcing himself to act pleased with his situation.

Sam didn't respond, simply moving behind his newest plaything. Lining up Sam pushed inside his slave, his head catching just past Dean's rim. Pausing as sensation overwhelmed him, Sam ran his hand down his slave's stomach, settling on the jut of bone of his hip. Pushing deeper, Sam moaned as a gasp fell from Dean, sounding almost pained. Sam began to circle his hips, setting a harsh pace as he fucked into his beautiful plaything. Dean was trying to pull away, struggling and whining in pain, Sam pulled him closer and fucked hard. This man was his possession and he was more than willing to prove who was master and who was slave.

Sam finished with a small cry, his mouth latching down hard to bite Dean's shoulder. Filling the man with ropes of come before rolling off, Sam lazily fell to the side. Dean was shaking, whimpering slightly. The man's erection had disappeared and he curled into the fetal position. Sam wondered briefly if he should try and comfort Dean, but the image of his father scolding him for being weak caused him to recoil and pull away. Sam drifted off into a deep sleep, all of his worries fading away as the world went dark and the curtain closed.

(A/N: This story is very AU BUT I promise Sam and Dean will be acting more like Sam and Dean soon enough. Don't cha wish your beta is amazing like mine? I owe a serious thanks to MissTripTucker who edited this, as well as several of my other stories. Reviews make me write faster)


	2. Chapter 2

Sam stared at the canopy hanging above his bed, the soft velvet stretched smooth expanse of the wooden frame of the massive bed. Beside him Dean whimpered softly, curled in a tight ball and facing away from Sam. Smirking slightly, Sam pulled himself from the bed. Stretching his firm body, he stared down at his newest present. He wondered how long it would take to break the man, how long it would be until he had to purchase a new play toy. Briefly Sam considered his slave's name, the name his mind had been quick to supply him with. Thinking back he couldn't remember ever being given a name for his present and it seemed odd that his mind had been so willing to apply the name Dean to the man.

"What is your name?" Sam asked as he slipped a button through the hole in his shirt, reaching to give the same treatment to the next button in line.

"I have no name, I am yours to name, master." Dean was awkwardly standing next to the door, already dressed in the suit Sam had handed him.

"Oh, well I'll deal with that later, Slave." Sam shrugged his coat on, smiling briefly as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. "Let's go, my party is about to begin."

Sam took his slave by the arm, practically pulling him into the hallway. In truth, Sam was not excited for this celebration of his life. He was not excited that he was forced to fake a smile and discuss his plans for his father's business; most of all he was not excited that he had to announce that his sex slave was male to a hundred uptight business men and women. The idea of curling up in his soft sheets was alluring but the repercussions would be severe. As he walked down the swirling staircase, Sam wondered briefly if this was all his life would ever entail. For a moment, he felt as though he faced purgatory…a life filled with bitter nothingness until at last he died of old age. Once again, Sam felt the urge to run.

"Master? We are going to be late if we do not hurry." Dean's voice pulled Sam from the recesses of his own mind, returning him to the staircase where he stood motionless.

"Yeah, yeah I'm going." Sam rolled his eyes and pushed all of his thoughts away. Winchester's did not try and escape fate.

As Sam opened the door leading to his back patio, he was bombarded by a million voices screaming happy birthday, a million unfamiliar faces. A few of his "friends" from school stood near the pool, laughing loudly at some joke. Sam felt the familiar tingle in his stomach as he looked around at the party he was completely disconnected from. These people who were celebrating his birthday did not know him, and Sam couldn't help but wonder if he even knew himself anymore. Sam wasn't sure he had ever known himself, if there was a self to know.

"Samuel, I would like you to meet my colleagues, Mr. Colt and Mr. Singer. They run the technology division of my company. I think this is the perfect place for you to begin so I have set up an internship for you." His father smiled, his eyes cold and flat.

"What about school?" Sam met his father's gaze, confusion and anger flickering over the younger man's features.

"Well, since you seem to enjoy staying home I figured you wouldn't mind missing school. I have already arranged for you to graduate, you do not need to be present."

"And if I want to be present?" Sam knew that arguing with his father at an event was a bad idea, but he couldn't fathom working for his father's company so soon.

"Prove it to me and attend school. If you cannot bring yourself to make it then I am going to have to make you work." His father's voice was stern, power leaking through his tone and into the air.

Sam nodded and walked away, pulling his slave right along with him. Around him the world was spinning, groups of people playing party games and laughing too loudly. Sam was just as disconnected from them as the slaves serving their beverages. Walking around slowly, Sam greeted his guests and participated in games. After playing a round of poker Sam moved to dance with his mother. Mary was dressed in a modest and completely appropriate green silk dress, her blond hair hanging down in loose curls. Sam felt no particular bond with the woman, really they barely spoke and she had always been quick to pass him off to the closest slave. Twirling the petite woman around for the duration of the song, Sam felt a thousand eyes on him.

"As all of you know, today is my son's sixteenth birthday. As the law states, he is now legally able to purchase a slave for companionship. Typically, this would not require public attention, but as my son is openly gay, Mary and I feel it is important to inform all of you that he purchased a male slave. Winchester Inc has always encouraged individuality and we continue this within our own family." Sam shifted away from his mother and the attention being given to him as his father launched into a spiel about how wonderful his company is.

"Master? Are you not having fun? You seem upset." Dean stared at Sam, concern lining his features.

"I am fine, Slave. I have simply had enough of these party games." Sam forced a bright smile as he walked over to his massive cake. "Ladies and gentlemen I would like to retire as it seems I need to do some homework. Before I go I would like you all to meet my slave." Sam motioned towards Dean, who looked like a deer in headlights, a deep blush staining his cheeks. "See ya'll."

Sam dragged Dean away by the arm, not bothering to eat a piece of the cake with his name boldly written along the top. Sam practically ran inside the house, his slave following loyally behind. Throwing his bedroom door open, Sam ran straight to his bed, flopping onto and mumbling at Dean to shut and lock his door. Sam pushed his face into his pillow, trying to hide the waves of emotion over whelming him. The bed shifted as Dean moved to lay next to him, a warm hand combing through his hair in an attempt at comfort.

"Don't fucking touch me, Slave. Your place is not to act like my fucking boyfriend. Just strip and bend the fuck over because that is all you're good for." Sam's hand connected with Dean's face, a loud crack filling the air.

For a moment, Sam was angry with himself, angry that he was punishing an innocent person for his family's flaws. The guilt faded before it had a chance to hurt him, shifting into another wave of anger. How dare his _Slave _touch him as though he pitied Sam, no one pitied a Winchester. Sam wanted to hurt Dean, to punish him for the intimate touch. Pulling himself up, Sam moved quickly as he stripped all of his clothes off, throwing them in random directions. Sam grinned as Dean whimpered, the sound vibrating straight to Sam's hardening length. Sam was not gentle when he pulled Dean's shirt off, tearing at the fabric until he heard a rip and the material fell away. Dean was trembling, his eyes tightly closed as Sam's fingernails scrapped across his taunt stomach as he pulled the undershirt away. Distantly, Sam could feel blood on his Slave's stomach but his dick was urging him to hurry, his anger guiding his hand as he pulled the belt from Dean's pants. Wrapping the warm leather around Dean's wrists, Sam tied him to the bed.

"You belong to me, you're not my fucking lover. You're just a sex toy I get to play with." Sam slapped Dean again, hard across the apple of his cheek.

In the dim light of the room, Sam could see his handprint in red across the beautiful bound man's cheek. Pushing Dean's pants down without bothering to unbutton the clasp, Sam heard another small whimper as he bruised Dean's legs. Dean's boxers were stripped away with little fight, the man's eyes still closed and his face hidden behind his bicep. Sam growled in frustration as he stared at Dean's soft length, the trembling man was simply trying to hide away and ignore Sam. Sam was not the type to be ignored.

"You're going to fucking look at me before I make you." Sam grabbed his Slave's chin, and turning his face up. "Get hard."

Sam was surprised to hear the small sob that left the man's lips; it caught him completely off guard. When he had forced himself on Dean earlier there had been so little resistance and even less emotion coming from the man. Sam pushed away the distinct feeling of guilt and instead focused on his anger. Lining up, Sam pushed inside of Dean in one quick motion. The man was still loose and slick from their earlier encounter and Sam wasted no time in letting him adjust. Ignoring the fact that Dean was still soft and whimpering under him, Sam circled his hips. It was rough and fast, forcing small pained sounds from Dean and filling the air with the sounds of skin hitting skin.

"Don't you ever fucking pity me." Sam practically growled, slamming in hard enough to cause the bed to his the wall. "I own you, you're a fucking whore."

Sam was trying to ward off the impending orgasm, to prolong this conquest but all too soon he felt his balls pull close to his body and a familiar sensation in his stomach. He came fast and hard, filling his Slave with his spunk. Sam rolled away the moment he was finished, not wanting to touch the man he had violated. The silence filled the room for a moment before Sam heard the distinct sound of crying. Dean was still trembling, shaking the bed ever so slightly.

"Do you still pity me, Slave?" Sam's voice was thick, the anger still coating his words.

"Yes, I still pity you." Dean's voice was quite, fading as though he had simply given up on trying to speak.

"You don't fucking pity me, I have a perfect life." Sam tasted the lie on the tip of his tongue.

"You're empty, hollow. You're not even close to perfection. Your life is pathetic." Sam hit his slave for what felt like the millionth time before reaching to free him from his bind to the bed frame. Sam pushed at Dan until he fell to the floor with a thud.

"Fuck you. Sleep on the floor like the dog that you are." Sam snarled, rolling over to face the other wall.

"Better than sleeping in a bed of lies." Sam was too tired to bother hurting Dean, opting to simply stare at the city lights shining in from the floor to ceiling windows.

(A/N: Thank you MssTripTucker for editing this and giving great feedback as always. Reviews make me write much faster…my muse has an ego)


	3. Chapter 3

Sam did not sleep well; he tossed and turned most of the night before Dean's breathing finally lulled him into a fitful sleep. A million things weighed down his mind, filling his dreams with fading images of Dean mocking Sam and then disappearing all together. Sam woke drenched in sweat with his sheets sticking to his bare skin. Dean was still fast asleep on the floor, bloody scratches running down his firm back and sides. Sam worried his bottom lip with his teeth as he stared down at his slave. A sharp stab of guilt hit his stomach as he noticed the small trickle of dried blood between the man's thighs. Falling with a gentle thud to his knees, Sam ran a hand through Dean's hair before letting his hand drop.

"Dean?" Sam had never officially called the man the name that had been filling his mind. "Wake up, Dean. I…you need to go to the doctors. God, I'm so sorry." Dean was still asleep, his breathing calm and even. "Dean?"

Dean's eyes fluttered open, confusion instantly lining his features as the name sunk in. He moved to cover his nude body with a dress shirt that had been shed the night before. Dean looked calm, as though he expected nothing more than treatment Sam had given him. The man looked down at the bloody marks and frowned slightly, cringing in pain as he pulled himself from the ground. There was an odd air of pride and simple modesty to Dean, he seemed proud of his injuries but he seemed almost insecure about his body. Sam mumbled to Dean about needing to shower and get ready for school before disappearing into the bathroom. Letting the hot water wash away his stress and guilt, Sam stood in the hot flow of water until his skin was wrinkling.

Dean was already dressed and waiting by the door when Sam left his bathroom, dressed in his school uniform consisting of a red blazer and khaki pants. Sam awkwardly pulled at his tie, feeling a bit out of place in his own room. Sam sighed deeply before pulling the door to his room open. Dean walked out before Sam, his legs slightly more bowed than the day before. Sam left Dean at the bottom of the stairs, heading out to his car in the crisp morning air. Sliding into his Mercedes, Sam escaped the hell that had become his home. He wasn't sure of he was running from his father or the man he had raped the night before.

XOXO

Private school was anything but glamorous, students filing into the institution in uniform outfits, and uniform hairstyles. Sam stood out because his hair was longer than most of the boys in school; he stood out because he was too tall and too muscular. Sam stood out because he had no intention of being a duplicate of his father. The fact that he was different had two affects on the school; Sam became somewhat of a novelty, therefore he was popular, but Sam was disconnected from his peers. He had friends, people whom he talked to in the hallways and sat with during lunch but there was never any connection. No one knew Sam; he was simply the rich gay boy who was a bit of a rebel.

The day passed slowly, Sam was quickly given a large pile of makeup work for the many days he had missed and then shipped to a seat near the middle of the classroom. His teachers did not remember his name and he honestly couldn't remember their names. None of it mattered because Sam had bigger concerns, things that went far beyond the spectrum of high school. He had raped his slave, injured him and left him standing at the base of the stairs. Dean would be taken care of, sent to the family physician who would discreetly tend to the man's wounds before sending him home. It was all too familiar because it had happened to his father's slave multiple times and it always followed the same pattern. Although, Dean was new and had just received a full medical run down, they would take his blood and add a tracker into his head to ensure that he never leave.

The problem with having everything handed to you was that you never had to take responsibility for mistakes. Sam had the distinct feeling he would be paying for his cruelty towards his slave. He wasn't sure if the idea of consequences thrilled him or terrified him, all he knew was that he wanted to get home to see Dean. The image of Dean standing at the bottom of those spiral stairs the first time they met drove Sam through his day, propelling him through classes he had never bothered to attend. Sam all but ran from the school, much to the dismay of his social group. The drive home was taken at a speed that was not legal, but he managed to make it in record time. Throwing the door to his fancy car open, Sam launched himself at the front door to his house, barely grasping the handle before it turned, seemingly on its own accord. From the other side of the threshold, John Winchester's lawyer stared up at Sam.

"Ah, Mr. Winchester, just the man I was hoping to see. Your father would like to have a word with you, he was hoping you would return before I left and now it seems you have. Follow me." Sam followed Linberg into his father's office, feeling slightly out of place as he was escorted through his own home.

John Winchester was as usual, yelling into his phone. Dean was sitting across from the man, a small bandage on his arm from where the needle had drawn blood. Sam cocked his head to the side, confused as to why his father would have his slave not only in his office, but seated in a chair. John Winchester was not a polite man and he certainly did not cater to the needs of his slaves. John set his phone down with a small thud and motioned for Sam and Linberg to sit next to Dean.

"Sam, we have a problem." His father's tone was cold but thin worry lines creased his forehead. "As you know we do a DNA test on all of the new editions to the staff, I wanted you to make sure that this was the slave for you before running these tests. It seems there is a bit of a problem with this particular slave-"

"Is he sick? He's okay, right?" The words left Sam's mouth before he was able to stop them, a small bubble of fear popping in his stomach as he stared at his father. Fear for Dean, fear of his father.

"No, Samuel, your slave is not sick. The doctor was running a scan on your DNA, ensuring that you had not contracted anything that could have been given to the slave when he noticed some similarities in your DNA and Dean's. He ran a test and discovered that you both have the same father." John Winchester simply stared at Sam, his eyes unwavering and his expression cold.

"Wait, you have an illegitimate child? Oh fuck, tell me I didn't sleep with my brother." Sam felt familiar anger building and twisting his insides.

"No, I did not. I'm afraid that I need to inform you that Mary and I adopted you as an infant. Mary is unable to have children and adoption seemed to be the most appropriate idea. We never felt the information would serve you any good so we never told you. You and Dean are most definitely brothers, I'm sorry." He didn't sound sorry; his voice was still flat and void of all emotion.

Sam wanted to die, his insides crawling up until he felt the familiar burn in his throat. Falling to his knees, Sam let the contents of his stomach go. He looked up at Dean, tears threatening to spill and suddenly it all made sense. This was his punishment, Sam was losing everything because he had hurt Dean enough to send him to the doctor. Briefly, Sam wondered if he was going to lose Dean, if he would be taken away. A painful clench in his heart made his decision for him.

"Please, don't take him away." Sam was pouting like a child loosing his favorite toy and he didn't care. Dean was the only real thing he had in his life and he wasn't letting the man go without a fight.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam was torn between hating his father for his indiscretions and being thankful for Dean's existence. The problem with the entire situation was that the beautiful lie that was Sam's life had been shattered. There was a crack in the image of his perfect family, a flaw evident for everyone to see. Sam was faced with the fact that, although he still legally owned Dean, his slave was now entitled to half of his father's fortune. It was a situation without precedent, and the legal situation was beyond complex. The only thing Sam cared about was the fact that he had raped his brother, used and abused his only sibling. Although, he did not know at the time, it was still an action he would have to face.

Dean had taken to walking around the house like he owned it, smirking and lounging around. It became a familiar sight to see his slave with his feet thrown over the coffee table and a cold beer in his hands. Sam had very little time to learn anything about his slave before the similarities in their blood had been exposed. Everything had shifted so quickly, Sam felt lost in it all. It was as though he was being punished, whether it was for his lifestyle or the way he had always treated slaves he was unsure. John Winchester had very little to say about the entire situation, simply commenting that legally Dean belonged to Sam and therefore Sam was free to do as he wished. His father had little to say about the incest issues or the legality of owning one's brother. Questions resulted in curt responses typically involving the lawyers taking care of everything. Sam hated his life.

A routine was formed quickly in the next week; Sam was ignored by Dean and then avoided for the majority of the day. Each day he would return home from private school, loaded down by a large stack of homework and constricted by his obligations to society. He would come home to find his slave in a new and surprising outfit, as though the man was searching for himself in the closet. The most recent change was darker, kohl smeared in perfect lines under Dean's eyes and tight black pants clinging to his legs. Sam's eyebrows shot up as he stared at the man and his too tight clothes, the black silk shirt pulled tight across bulging muscles.

"Whoa, what the hell are you wearing? Is that makeup?" Sam couldn't help but ask, even as his stomach did flip flops and fear danced angrily through his veins. Sam and Dean had not spoken since they had discovered their common genes.

"I am wearing what I want to wear. What's wrong _master? _Am I not pretty enough for you? Want to teach your _brother _a lesson by raping him? Again?" Dean was smirking, painted black lips curling into a sinister smirk.

"I had no idea you were my brother, if I had known-"

"You would have fucked me harder." Dean let out a cold laugh, daggers in the form of emerald eyes staring at Sam.

"What the fuck is your problem, slave? I have let you be, ignored you and left you to lounge about all day. What more could you want?" Sam simply stared, confusion playing in his hazel eyes.

"Did you ever stop to think that I want you to apologize?" The fire in Dean's eyes was smoldering, his eyes wide and locked onto his newfound brother.

"No. I don't apologize to slaves. If I wanted to, I could still legally force you into my bed." Sam shrugged before leaning against the wall, his eyes broadcasting the threat.

"Ah incestuous rape, is that a kink you have? 'Cause, I'm pretty sure that most people rule that as fucked up." Dean moved from his seat on the couch, stepping close to Sam, looking up just slightly.

"No, but if it will shut you the fuck up I think it might be worth it. Hell, I'll pay you if you wash that emo shit off of your eyes." Sam felt a sudden urge to close the small distance between them, to crash his lips against the perfectly plump lips just inches bellow his.

"As soon as you stop undressing me with your eyes, I'll stop expressing myself. I don't see either happening anytime soon." Dean was smirking again, his breath playfully dancing across Sam's lips.

"Fuck you, slave. Get the fuck out of my sight and change out of those clothes. That is an order, I am your master and you will do as you are told." Sam's voice was venom, filling the air with tension, anger and lust.

"As you wish, _master._" Dean pulled his silk shirt slowly over his head, letting the black material slide to the floor. His perfectly sculpted chest was mere inches away from Sam, the skin begging to be touched. Dean was moving slowly, teasingly pulling the studded belt out and inch at a time, his pants hanging low on his hips. Sam's breath caught as Dean's pants slid low enough to reveal the jut of bone that was his hip and the perfect line leading to his dick. Dean pushed the button of his jeans free, sliding the zipper down unbearably slow. When he, at last, stood in nothing but tight boxer-briefs, he looked up to catch Sam's gaze.

"Did you want to do the honors or should I, _master?" _

"I…um you uh." Sam simply stared at the perfect expanse of skin, his khaki pants growing tight as his member filled with blood.

Dean moved slowly, catching the elastic of his last remaining clothing with his thumb and pulling. His entire body came into view as he let the material fall to the floor. A small his escaped his mouth as the cool air grazed over his heated and full cock. Dean smirked as he stepped away from Sam, walking up the stairs slow enough to allow his brother a long stare at his firm ass. Dean disappeared into Sam's bedroom, leaving Sam to stare in wonder as his slave followed his orders perfectly. His heart clenched tightly, an odd sense of pain filling him as he sunk to the floor. Sam knew better than to chase what he had longed for since the moment he turned sixteen. No, Sam would just need to avoid his room and the prize waiting inside. The venom Dean had spat earlier was still swirling around in his mind, leaving trails of self-hatred in their wake. Sam wasn't sure he could live through it again, no; he would just hide amongst his brother's discarded clothing.

(A/N: This was posted a bit later than usual, sorry about that but it was homecoming weekend. Reviews are loved almost s much as my wonderful beta MissTripTuker)


	5. Chapter 5

Dean was beginning to upset Sam; the anger that was naturally present due to the situation that was growing. Sam had arranged for Dean to receive half of a fortune that was not his, he had all but allowed the man to live as though he was a member of the Winchester family. All in all, Sam had given Dean every slaves dream and yet he remained the villain. There was something in the air, a shift almost present like a constant buzzing. Dean was growing and twisting, transforming himself slowly from an obedient slave into a self-righteous dick. Sam hated him; he hated the way he openly mocked Sam for his mistakes and he hated the way that Dean was sex, it practically leaked from his pores. Sam just hated that he wanted his brother; his restraint was fading all too quickly.

Sam shifted slightly in the cool office, the hard leather under his body moaning softly. Dean was seated mere inches away, his body heat colliding with Sam in waves. It was infuriating to witness the easy smile on the man's face, even with an expensive lawyer and a fierce businessman seated across from him. Linberg's office was uncomfortable, too professional and cold to allow any comfort. Sam was sure it was meant to impress high-class clients, or perhaps to ensure that they stayed as little as possible in the room

"Samuel, I do not see why you are signing over half of your fortune. This is ridiculous. Mr. Winchester has spent a lifetime building this fund and now you are offering a sizable sum to a slave?" The man's voice was cold, his eyes piercing into Sam.

"I…I just think that he deserves some part of what I am lucky enough to have. He is my brother after all." Sam's voice shook slightly, his eyes locked on the window just behind Linberg.

"Which is all fine and dandy but it makes no sense to offer him this sum of money without freeing him. You are still refusing to sign for his freedom, I'm assuming."

"If I sign then he will leave and I'll never see him again. I just want him to be part of my life. He can just lounge around and spend his portion of the money. I'm not letting him go."

"Son, there is no logic in this. Either you want your brother to be happy or you want him in your service. He is still appointed for the use of sexual intercourse, which you clearly have no intention of using him for. You need to decide if this man is a slave or an equal. You're sixteen, almost an adult; I'm letting you make this choice on your own." John Winchester stood, his long stride carrying him quickly from the room and leaving three men staring.

"Well, we will meet again in a few weeks. I expect a decision on this matter." Linberg smiled, almost cat like, and nodded towards the door.

The walk to the elevator was silent, a few eyes flickering in their direction. Sam knew that he entire office was aware of his situation, hell it was a wonder that he had not been forced to give a public statement. Sam pressed the down button, tapping his foot lightly against the hard tile floors. The sound echoed through the room, breaking the silence that had formed since the brothers entered the room. Sam was in the elevator the moment the doors opened, sighing in relief when he discovered the small space void of people. Dean joined slowly, an easy smirk playing across his lips as he watched the doors close.

"Tell me why." Dean's voice surprised Sam, pulling him from the trance he had not realized he had fallen into.

"Why what?" Sam refused to look at his brother, his eyes locked on the number of floors ticking by.

"Why are you giving me money but keeping me as your sex slave? It isn't as though we are even having sex. You don't owe me anything just because our DNA has a link." Dean's voice was cold and flat, the recent sneer completely gone.

"I know I don't owe you anything. I just…if I keep you than you will stay and yeah. I explained this already." Sam shifted uncomfortably under the weight of Dean's stare, knowing that if he looked over he would find perfect swirls of emerald.

"You are a selfish prick." Dean spat, shaking his head just as the elevator doors opened to reveal the lobby. Sam watched Dean go, a tightness clamping around his heart.

XOXO

Sam needed a distraction, something to help avoid Dean as well as to keep his thoughts away from Dean. It was always Dean, everywhere he looked. Even in the corners of his own mind, Dean was present. Invading and corrupting his way inside until Sam was at a loss as to how he could be removed. Sam felt as though he was drowning, reaching out and grasping for a helping hand only to find Dean standing over him with that God-awful glare. Dean was not going to save Sam, not going to lessen the pain that ignited every time he turned his back to Sam or ignored him. Sam would just need to find a new hobby, one that required long hours.

Naturally, this led Sam to the basketball court, a place where Sam's long body was thoroughly appreciated. The tryouts for the team yielded a far larger group of boys than Sam had expected, but he knew that his social status would ensure his place on the team. Sam leaned against the bleachers, an easy smile gracing his features because at the very least he was free from Dean here. Sam's eyes snapped up as he heard a deep voice call his name.

"Winchester what are you doing here?" Chad Michael Murray smiled his typical cocky grin, his blue eyes glowing.

"Looking for a distraction." Sam replied, returning the grin.

"Yeah well I don't think this is the place for you. I mean, man. A lot of people are pretty freaked out about your, um, legal situation." Chad shuffled awkwardly, his eyes shifting to the group of boys who looked mildly uncomfortable.

"Ah, so it got out?" Sam shrugged, sighing deeply as he looked away from the group. He had known that the secret was too big to be hidden for long but he had not been prepared for the moment to come so soon.

"Yeah, it got out. Look, a few of the guys are looking to start something. People aren't happy that you slept with your brother but they are really upset that you are allowing him to live as though he is equal." Chad looked uncomfortable, shifting on his feet and refusing to look his friend in the eye.

"But technically he is my equal. If John had never adopted me than I would be in the same place he is." Sam shrugged; hurt filling his voice hardly disguised.

"That is another one of their issues with you; they think that since you were not born into this life you should be treated as such." Chad shrugged before walking away, with an apologetic smile and sad eyes.

Sam fully intended to try out for the team; a few spoiled brats throwing stones would not sway him. Moving from his place against the bleachers, Sam moved to pick up a basketball from the large cart. Dribbling for a few moments, Sam lined up before letting the ball glide from his hands. The swish of the net was more than enough proof that Sam belonged on the team.

"Winchester, what the hell are you doing on my court?" A familiar voice called from the bleachers.

"Trying out, what are you doing on the _school's_ court?" Sam couldn't help the instant wave of anger and the flood that was moments away from breaking.

"Kicking you out of the gym. We don't want a _slave _on our team. Just because you were brought out of the slums doesn't mean you don't belong there. We all knew something was wrong with you, and we were right." The boy moved quickly, on the bleachers one moment, his fist crashing into Sam's face the next.

Sam grunted at the impact and the flash of pain before slamming into the boy. For a moment Sam lost his balance, unused to his constantly growing limbs, sending them both crashing to the ground. His fist found the boy's face, packing sounds filling the air. Sam lost himself in the anger, lost himself in punishing the boy whose face had morphed into Dean's. Sam was punishing Dean, punishing himself but mostly he was punishing society. He was destroying the institution that had allowed for his brother to be sold, the institution that had allowed Sam to become a monster. He continued to beat the boy until he was pulled away, distantly aware of someone yelling.

XOXO

"Why did you do that?" Dean stared at Sam's destroyed knuckles, his eyes flickering up to the large bruise on his jaw.

"Why do you always question me?" Sam refused to open his eyes, his lids tightly closed.

"Someone has to. I'm the only one who cares enough to bother." Sam's eyes never opened to see the concern and pain in his brother's eyes.

(A/N: Reviews really help, I love knowing what I nee to work on and what direction the readers would like to head. Thanks, as always, to MissTripTucker for dealing with my silly typos…3))


	6. Chapter 6

(A/N: I am sorry this update took so long, I have been swamped lately. I will try and update once a week, but I can't make any promises. I did not have a beta for this chapter because my wonderful MissTripTucker lost someone dear, happy thoughts towards her 3 so all mistakes are mine. Comments make my day.)

Sam could feel warmth caressing his body, a gentle rise and fall just to his left. For a moment he was afraid, confused as to why a body would be pressed against his. The fear of being rejected coiled tightly in his stomach, the urge to cringe away from the heat building until Sam forced his eyes open only to be bombarded by green bliss. Dean was carelessly draped over him, a leg thrown over Sam's thighs and striking eyes locked in place. The older man must have felt the tension in Sam's body because his thumb began to aimlessly stroke against the soft skin of Sam's bear chest. Sam had no recollection of being moved from the school, nor any memories of being stripped down. His heart pinched painfully, doing a slight flip as he considered the meaning behind his brother's actions. In truth, Sam had never felt more loved than he did in that moment.

"You look so broken, Sammy." Dean's voice broke the silence, pulling Sam from the swirling irises.

"I am broken. I've always been broken." Sam was surprised by his words, by the slight tremble in his voice. He was surprised by how brutally honest the statements were.

"I can fix you, put you back together." Dean leaned in to rub his nose against his brother's, a thousand freckles perfectly displayed for Sam to count.

"No one can fix me." Sam could feel the tears building already, his swollen lids falling shut.

"I don't think anyone has ever tried." Dean stared down at Sam, waiting for the eyes to reopen.

Bruises covered the lids and most of Sam's cheek, the skin slightly swollen and purplish against the deep tan. Dean closed the distance between them, kissing each swollen lid before finally sealing his lips over Sam's. The plump perfection was perfectly unguarded, unlike their previous experiences. The relationship had shifted, everything was too gentle and left Dean hyper aware of Sam's breath against his lips. For a moment, Dean wanted to remain in the position forever, to save the realness of the moment. All thoughts of remaining still faded as Sam's tongue cautiously ran across Dean's plump bottom lip. Yes, Dean had finally found the real Sam, the one buried behind confidence and hatred.

Dean rolled on top of his brother, easily taking control of the situation, assuring the younger boy that he was more than willing. Rolling his hips down softly, Dean gasped at the hard line of Sam's steadily filling cock. Each roll of his hips brought him closer to perfection, his fingertips ghosting up Sam's pliant body. Twirking the boy's nipples, Dean explored the hot, wet expanse of his mouth. Sam was rolling his hips slightly, just enough to drive Dean wild. Hands sliding along firm muscles, Sam took the chance to explore the body he had exploited before. Perfect skin was stretched across an endless expanse of muscle, all splattered with seductive freckles, drawing Sam in. The need to control the situation was building, but Sam forced his body to remain in Dean's hands, allowing him jurisdiction over his body. If Sam was ever forced to define happiness, he would have described the moment that Dean's lips moved to the shell of his ear, whispering a soft "I love you".

It was all too slow, tantalizingly perfect. Sam was intrigued and unable to stop the waves of pleasure Dean drew from him with every slow drag of his hips. Sam had never felt so exposed as he did with his brother, his boxers clinging damply to his hard erection. It felt as though he might explode, his mind unable to process the sudden change in his brother. A hand slithered down his abs, leaving a trail of prickled skin and tense muscles in its wake. A fingertip brushed just above his boxers, causing Sam to arch off of the bed, a low moan escaping his throat. His body reacted as Dean pushed the boxers aside, firmly stroking Sam's aching cock. He began to fall apart the moment Dean's soft hands ran across his heated skin. The world was spinning and distantly he felt the hot splash of come against his heaving chest.

For a moment Sam was too blissfully happy to focus on anything but the hammering of his heart and the heat of Dean above him. As seconds turned into a minute he forced his eyes open, once again taken by surprise as the emerald eyes searched his own. The darkened, lust blown irises reminded Sam of Dean's unsatisfied status. Sam slid his hand down his brother's body, fingers trembling slightly as he traced the abs down to the hem of the damp boxers. Slipping under the elastic, Sam felt as though he were a virgin exploring a newly granted expanse of skin. He could feel the heat radiating from the older man as his hands hesitated mere centimeters from the swollen shaft.

"It's okay, Sammy." Dean's voice was thick and raspy, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheek with each slow rise and fall of heavy lids. Sam's fingers hesitantly grasped the hard member, his fingers sliding along the precome trailing down the side. Stroking gently, Sam whimpered as he considered tasting the creamy fluid. Dean was panting against his chest, his eyes closed as his hips began to buck into Sam's fist. In a moment, Dean was spurting come along their bodies, mixing with Sam's already drying trails. Bringing his fingers slowly to his mouth, Sam savored the taste of his brother, the bittersweet perfection lingering even as Dean's breathing fell into an even rise and fall.

XOXO

Somehow, Sam was not surprised when he awoke a second time with only the cold sheets to caress his bruised body. There was a shift within himself, something far to obvious to hide even from himself. Sam was no longer Samuel Winchester but rather Dean's Sammy. When the potential for this shift had occurred, he would never know. Just as easily as he could identify his own changes, he could recognize Dean's. The man was in search of his own person, constantly pressing his own boundaries until he found the personality that had been forced away long before Sam had ever reentered his life.

Dean was ever changing, leaving Sam to question his place. The morning held a thousand questions and few answers. The only thing that was solid was the fact that Dean had left before Sam had woken. A sharp pain stabbed through his heart as butterflies with razorblade wings carved insecurities into his chest. He couldn't breathe, his mouth falling open as he attempted to draw in a deep breath. All at once, Dean was by his side, a wide hand splayed over Sam's drumming heart. Instantly, relief washed over Sam.

"I...you…left." Sam gasped the words, his eyes wide as he shifted into Dean's touch.

"I would have never pegged you for the needy type. I wanted to wake you with a cup of coffee, I didn't think you would mind if you woke up alone." Dean smiled sweetly, an underlining smirk just barely playing at the corners of his crooked smile.

"Whatever." Sam was instantly pulling away, the illusion of intimacy shattered by Dean's words.

"Don't be like that. I thought that we had finally reached solid ground." Dean was smiling, a hint of tenderness shining from the dark lined eyes.

"Will you always wear makeup?" Sam's hand moved on its own accord, reaching up to gently trace just under the dark smudges.

"No, I imagine I won't always wear makeup. I like how it looks, but I am still trying to find myself. Who knows where that will take me?" Dean shrugged, his eyes drifting away from Sam and towards the open drapes.

"I imagine that you won't always be around here." Sam's voice was quite, almost distant as he stared at Dean, who was practically glowing in the morning sunlight.

"No, I've thought about leaving but as long as you own me I am required to stay." Dean shrugged, stepping closer to the window. His fingers traced the small drops of condensation that had built during the night.

"If I free you than I can't protect you. When people realize that you are not my possession they will hurt you. Hell, they are hurting me and I have never been a slave." Sam closed his eyes, trying to ignore the beauty glowing in his bedroom.

"Something's are worth the risk." Dean smiled sadly, before disappearing out the bedroom door.

XOXO

Sam had never felt such dread and fear, the once peaceful arches and stone buildings now loomed over him. Everything was different, suddenly the school was an institution built on fear, a place where the status quo reigned and morals came in last. Sam had never been one to completely oblige by the rules but the recent discoveries had changed the rules for everyone. Sam was now an outsider, separated by blood and his actions had only served to add anger to the mix. For a moment he felt the string of rejection as eyes settled on him, shock and disgust painted on distant faces.

"Sam Winchester, or I suppose you are only a fake Winchester. What the hell are you doing here?" The boy was bruised and looking just as broken as Sam.

"I go to school here, in case you forgot. I know it is hard for you to remember things but hey I'm sure _daddy _will pay someone to remember for you. After all, he did pay to fix your shitty basketball skills." Sam laughed bitterly, his voice hollow as he spat insults.

"At least I have pure blood running through my veins." The boy threw his head back in a booming laugh, his voice compensating for his low self-esteem.

"Pure blood? What is this, Harry Potter? I hate to break this to you but everyone is connected and no one has better blood. Blood is blood; the only thing that separates you and my slave is that you are pathetic whereas he is strong. Go fuck yourself." Sam stared at the boy, taking in all of the bruises that his own fists had created.

"You are going to come to hate this school." A smirk pulled at the corners of the boy's lips, his eyes dancing behind bruised lids.

"I have always hated this school. Anyone who enjoys private school deserves all of the _joys _it has to offer. Oh, wait. You have been enjoying yourself here, if I am recalling right than you had an affair withMrs. Cassidy." Sam's smile shifted, suddenly sad. "Leave it to private school trash to take what they want, even when it belongs to someone else."

"Who told you?" The boy looked scared, terrified almost.

"I am Sam fucking Winchester. I don't even have to attend school to know all of its secrets." Sam's smile fell completely, his brows furrowing slightly. "I heard she is pregnant."

"Who else knows?" The boy looked devastated, the bruises on his face were nothing compared to the sorrow in his blue eyes.

"I know that at the very least Mike knows, I think Christian Kane told him and his girlfriend Taylor told him so…the origin of the rumor could have come from anywhere." Sam felt bad for the boy, something that he would have never considered himself capable. It wasn't pity but empathy.

"Shit, Christian knows?" The boy looked like he might pass out, his body swaying slightly.

"Yes? Why does that matter?" Sam was instantly confused, his hazel eyes swirling with curiosity as he stared into the blue waves of the boy's eyes.

"I…nothing. Look, your not my friend so lets just go back to fighting."

"Why? It doesn't have to be like this." Sam stepped a fraction of an inch closer, just enough to cause the boy to move back. "Come on, Chad."

"I don't need friends, hell, I already have too many as is." The boy rolled his eyes before closing them.

"I'm sure they are all fine and dandy snobs."

"Well at least they have-"

"No emotions? Great quality in a friend." Sam laughed quietly, shaking his head. "If you ever decide that you want to talk about…Mrs. Cassidy or the baby, I'm here."

"There is no baby, she had a miscarriage." Chad's face shifted into mourning, delicate lines etched into the tan skin. "I found out right before I went to the tryouts. Typically, I would never have started a fight but I was upset and you were an easy target."

"Don't worry about the fight, my face will heal." Sam shrugged, smiling softly.

"My heart won't." With that Chad turned away, disappearing into the school.

Sam wanted to run, to flee from all of the pain around him but instead he forced his legs to carry him inside. Everything was changing, shifting into a place Sam had never imagined. Dean was different, his influence bringing out the truth in all those around him. Sam was sure that before Dean there was nothing, that he had not lived until those green eyes had breathed him in. In all honestly, he wasn't sure he could ever go back to the lies.


	7. Chapter 7

((A/N: I am sooo sorry this hasn't been updated in forever. The next few chapters will be finished soon and the story will be complete by the first! Special thanks to MissTripTucker for editing))

Sam had never been forced to cook in his entire life. Never. The idea of actually participating in a class designed to teach him the skills necessary to perform tasks that his slaves already did seemed absurd. Yet, here he stood. The entire class was hard at work, the wonderful smells of quiche hanging in the air. Sam was behind, his egg mixture still sitting in the bowl. Somehow it looked different from all the other mixtures, even the color was slightly off. Sam looked up at his partner, shrugging before filling the piecrust with the too-thick mixture.  
"It'll be fine, I'm sure." Sam smiled, his eyes looking up to meet Chad's.  
"Dude, it looks sick. Why is it green?" Chad wrinkled his nose as he stared down at the nasty colored mixture.  
"I think that is from the broccoli? Maybe? Hopefully." Sam shrugged, opening the oven and carefully placing the dish on the rack. "What was the temperature again?"  
"Um 500, I think. Should I go ask?"  
"Nah, we'll just put it at that temperature, I'm sure it will be fine. I mean, if my slaves can do it…so can I." Sam laughed before moving to sit down at his table.  
"What are you doing? We have to wash the dishes." Chad stared at Sam expectantly, his eyes shifting back to the pile of dishes on the counter.  
"What? I can't do dishes." Sam shook his head, cringing away from the idea of work.  
"Dude everyone in this class has to do dishes, it doesn't matter how pretty you think you are." Chad pointed to the pile of dishes, staring once more at Sam.  
"It has nothing to do with being pretty. I'm disabled." Sam shrugged nonchalantly, averting his eyes.  
"Yeah, how so?" Chad looked more than a little annoyed, as though he were considering hitting Sam again even though the bruises lining their faces were just beginning to heal.  
"It's called super soft skin; you wouldn't want to make my hands all rough would you?" Sam was barely able to contain his smile.  
"You really are gay. Get your ass up and help me wash these." Chad rolled his eyes as he pulled on a pair of bright pink rubber gloves. "Here, protect your precious hands with these magical inventions."  
"To bring forth such magical things points to one thing, and one thing only…witch! Burn the witch!" Sam forced himself to keep a straight face as he pulled on a matching pair of pink gloves. "These are a bit gay, even for me."  
"Well, the faster you clean, the faster you can take them off." Chad rolled his eyes as he let the water run hot, pouring a bit of soap into the stream he let the water begin to fill.  
"That is not enough soap." Sam took the bottle and gave it a good squeeze, a massive amount flooding out into the stream of hot water. Almost instantly the sink was over flowing with bubbles, water splashing onto the floor.  
"Shit, Sam! Now look what you've done!" Chad stepped back, his foot hitting the suds at just the right angle to force him to his ass. "Fuck!"  
"It really isn't the time for a bath." Sam shook his head before reaching over to turn the water off. "You're so silly, get up before someone notices."  
"Sam, Chad what have you done!" The teachers high pitch voice rang through the room, causing both boys to look up with horrified expressions.

XOXO

"Really, I think it would be best if you avoid the kitchen from now on. Some people are just meant to have slaves." Chad shook his head as he followed Sam into the mansion.  
"Yeah, yeah blame it all on me. Come on, I want to bring this quiche to Dean before we go to practice." Sam smiled as he took the stairs two at a time, his heart skipping a beat as he considered seeing Dean.  
"So, I finally get to meet the infamous Dean do I?" Chad laughed as he followed an ecstatic Sam up the curving stairs.  
Sam pushed the door open to his bedroom, a bright smile breaking on his face as he stared at his brother. Everything had changed, even Dean. The makeup was gone, replaced by soft lashes and content eyes. The dark clothes were now mixed and matched with soft dress shirts and tight jeans. Dean was still pushing the limits, exploring himself in the hopes of finding what he had lost years before. The money that Sam had given him was mostly intact, the clothes being Dean's only expense. The man looked content, staring out of the windows at a busy world and just past that world the freedom of the ocean. It took Sam's breath away as he stared for the brief seconds before his friend joined him at the threshold.  
"Holy shit, he is…like a model." Chad's words broke Dean's trance, his perfect eyes flickering over to the door as a smile spread across his plump lips.  
"Sammy, you brought a friend home. This is a first." Dean moved away from the windows, walking slowly towards the door. "I'm Dean, and you are?"  
"Chad, nice to meet you man." Chad nodded at Dean, leaning back against the frame of the door.  
"You don't have to try and impress Dean with your coolness. Just relax." Sam punched Chad lightly in the arm, causing the boy to finally relax slightly.  
"Wait, is this the boy you got in a fight with?" Dean looked back and forth between the boys, at their somewhat matching bruises.  
"Yeah, but it's cool now. You know how high school is…or um I guess you don't, but things change almost daily. Speaking of change, I baked something today! I wanted to bring some to you before Chad and I go to practice." Sam grinned as he held out the small plastic containing his nightmarish version of quiche.  
"Oh God, it is _green. _What, um, what is this supposed to be exactly?" Dean leaned away from the box, wrinkling his nose against the smell of burnt eggs.  
"It is quiche, can't you tell? I worked really hard on it but the teacher decided to transfer Chad and I to a PE class. Apparently, letting the sink create an army of bubbles is against the rules. News to me." Sam giggled, pushing the container of quiche at Dean's chest. "I'm sure it tastes good."  
"Yeah, I'm sure it does. Um did you try it?" Dean cringed slightly, staring down at the food with disgust.  
"No, and you shouldn't either. Take in the glory that is that monstrosity and then throw it away. I'm pretty sure if you eat it…it will consume you from the inside out, or give you food poisoning." Chad shook his head at Dean, half tempted to throw the food away himself. "Brotherly love does not cover food poisoning, even if you have had sex."  
"Wow, way to be blunt Chad." Sam rolled his eyes, a slight pout pulling at the corners of his lips.  
"Aww, is my little brother all offended? Poor little Sammy, reduced to pouting." Dean laughed as he bumped hips with his brother.  
"You know I'm cute." Sam stuck his tongue out, "Jerk."  
"Bitch." Dean laughed at Sam's hurt facial expression, rolling his eyes. "You two are going to be late for practice."  
"Yeah, we better go. I'll see you later, right?" Sam's expression was hopeful, the question hanging in the air.  
"You own me Sam, where exactly do you expect me to go?"  
Even after Sam left his house, even as he became accustom to the familiar sounds of shoes on polished wood, whooshing hoops and the obnoxious sounds of breathing, the words were still hanging in the air. Sam owned Dean. It was something that would always separate them, rather than connect them. Dean was, in a way, forced to love him, to care for him. Sam had simply given the man a longer leash, but the chains remained intact. It was weighing down on his soul, reminding him of the illusion he was currently living in. No, things were not okay. It was all an act, one that would have to end at some point. The players would need to go their separate ways and Sam would find himself alone. Thoughts haunted him through practice; even the success of accomplishing scores was not enough to allow him an escape from his mind. Something had to change.

XOXO

"Do you love me?" Sam couldn't hold the words back any longer as he crashed through his bedroom door.  
"What? Of course, what makes you ask?" Dean was seated on the couch, a beer in hand and the television flickering in the dim light of the room.  
"Why does it matter if you are free? Isn't it enough to just stay here with me?" Sam could hear the panic in his voice; practically feel the buzz of electric emotion in the air.  
"Sam, brothers are not meant to own one another. Lovers are not meant to own one another. How can anything we feel be real if you own me? Everything is so fake in this situation. I can't be me, there is no me really, only what you want from me. I love you, but I only love you as much as the situation allows. I would die for you but death isn't really a threat when you don't even own your own life. It is like knowing your fate, knowing everything that is to come. Death is relief in that situation." Dean's eyes were firmly locked on the floor; a frown pulling his perfectly shaped lips down.  
"And if I free you? What then?" Sam could barely force the words from his mouth, every fiber in his being insisting that he must keep Dean.  
"Then things change, but my love won't. You'll always be my brother Sammy, and I'll always want to protect you from the world." Dean finally lifted his eyes to stare at his brother, an overwhelming sorrow swirling in his jade eyes.  
"Will you stay with me?" Sam could feel the single tear streaming down his face, hear his emotion thick words, all asking for the most basic request.  
"Not here, no."


	8. Chapter 8

((A/N: There is only one chapter left folks! Be sure to review so I know how you feel. Of course my lovely MissTripTucker needs a special thanks for editing this!))

This was a unique form of pain, a double-edged sword straight through the heart. It was the duel feeling of both betrayal and rejection of a lover as well as the pain of loosing a family member. The papers were signed; Dean was now free to leave Sam. Without the legal binds of the contract Sam could feel his brother slipping through his fingers, even as they remained in the same room. It was silent while Dean packed, a million unsaid words hanging in the air. Forgotten "I love you's", whispers of goodbye. Yet, Sam watched the careful hands of his lover fold each shirt delicately before laying it to rest in a black suitcase lying on the floor. Somehow, it felt like a dream, something imagined, something that would disappear a moment before the final breath was drawn. Sam was half convinced that this was a nightmare, something he had simply conjured from his subconscious, a warning as to what he may lose. Really, he was losing everything that had ever mattered, letting go of his one stronghold.

"It doesn't have to be like this, Sammy." Dean didn't look up from his packing, his voice deep and rough.

"You're leaving, what else could it possibly be?" Sam sounded bitter; he could hear the lemon in his voice.

"It could be that I honestly can't stay here." Dean looked up at Sam, his bright eyes burning through his soul.

"I'm sorry it was so unbearable for you, I'm sorry you had to be with me." Sam could feel the sting of tears, feeling like a scolded child.

"Sam, it doesn't have to be like this" Dean was beginning to repeat himself, for a moment Sam wondered if his mind had simply substituted the words, as though he were missing some grand point. "Come with me." It wasn't a request.

"I can't just leave everything." Sam could feel shock slither down his spine to mix with the cold feeling of fear.

"Leave everything? What do you have here? Let me tell you exactly what you have. You have an absent father who doesn't care, a mother who can't stand to look at you, fake friends, and every material possession a teenager could ever dream of. You don't have a life, you have a Barbie dream house. Well, guess what? I'm done playing dolls. Either you can come with me, or you can stay and play the role of bitchy Ken who was dumped by Barbie." Dean was staring at him as though he had revealed some great truth, a hidden secret that Sam had simply ignored for his entire life. In truth, Sam was more than aware.

"Guess what?" Sam couldn't help the smile that stretched across his lips.

"What?" Dean looked hopeful and wounded all at the same time.

"You just admitted to being Barbie." Sam couldn't help the giggles the escaped his lips, his finger coming up to point at his brother.

"Come on, I'm gay and even I know that Barbie is prettier than Ken." Dean was smiling to, holding back a chuckle as he through the last shirt into the bag. "So tell me Ken, are you ready to break free of this dollhouse."

"Maybe, but before I agree to anything I need to know something. It is a very serious matter." Sam forced himself to pull on a straight face, failing for a moment before collecting himself once more.

"What's that, Sammy?" Dean looked unimpressed, although his brow was slightly pinched with worry.

"Do you have some weird doll fetish I should know about…?" Sam laughed before moving to stand as close as his body would allow to Dean, thigh-to-thigh, chest-to-chest.

"Maybe, you may just have to learn to deal with it." The kiss was natural, the smooth kind of electricity that slides down your chest and into your soul.

XOXO

Change was always difficult for Sam, something that is difficult to grasp and even harder to let go. Change is the type of thing that his money allowed him to avoid. Yet, as he stared at his private school for the last time in the morning light he couldn't help the wave of excitement in his stomach. This would be the last time he would ever see this school in the morning sun, the last time he would pull into the parking lot crowded with sports cars. It was the last time he would pretend to be anything other than himself. This was it; this was the end of high school. Sure, he would still graduate, his father would probably mail the certificate, and yeah his father's money would allow him to live comfortably for the rest of his life, but he would be free. Dean and he would find happily ever after, they would run away and it would all be okay. No, it would be better than okay, it would be perfect.

"Sam!" Chad's voice snapped him from his haze, calling to him from across the hall.

"Hey man, s'up?" Sam nodded, pulling his chin up ever so slightly as he screamed across the swarming hall.

"Chilling, you know how it is in the morning around here. Plus, I just met with Katie, erm, Ms. Cassidy. Things are, uh, they are better. I think she might actually forgive me, thank god, 'cause I was like two minutes away from blowing my brains out." Chad shrugged, Sam staring at him with wide eyes.

"Dude, don't say shit like that." Sam shook his head, resisting the temptation to roll his eyes. "I have something to tell you."

"Yeah, you and Dean having butt babies together?" Chad raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Um, ew, no. But, it is about Dean. We are running away so to speak. We're leaving after school today." Sam shrugged, looking at his shoes as he kicked along the tiled floor.

"Wait. Stop. Repeat. You are running away with your brother?" Chad looked like pale, as though he might faint. "But…you're the only real friend I have."

"Honestly, you're probably one of the only real friends I've ever had, too. We can still talk; I mean you can stalk my facebook wall." Sam grinned; pulling Chad in for a hug that instantly became a wrestling match for whose arms were on top. Sam won.

"So, I guess this is your last day of high school." Chad bit his lip, his brows furrowing.

"And the first day of the rest of my life." Sam smiled, slinging his arm over Chad's should to pull him in the direction of their PE class. "But look on the bright side, once I leave there will be no one here to whip you're ass at basketball." Sam grinned as he pulled the door to the locker room open.

"You have never whipped my ass." Chad rolled his eyes, lightly punching Sam. For an instant Sam wondered if he would miss this, miss high school and all of the things he had learned to love. For a moment he wanted to stay, but the image of Dean leaving him chased away the fears, leaving him with an odd mix between joy and nervous excitement.

XOXO

The day passed like every other day, the hands on the clock ticking silently and slowly. The classes were still noisy and distracting, the teachers a background noise to the gossip. Girls in short skirts, boys in tight shirts, and the mating rituals all the same. It was all the same but it was all hollow, a fake world filled with fake people. Sam was escaping this apple pie life; sure the apple pie was solid gold, but it was apple pie all the same. Happiness was waiting for him in a brand new, used, classic car. Dean was leaning against a mint condition impala, a leather jacket on his shoulders and classic rock blaring from the speakers.

Sam turned to look at his school, the place he had never really belonged. Here he had been popular, he had been scorned, and he had been hated. This was a place that he could never forget, a place where he had been shaped into the kind of person most parents would be proud of. He had outgrown private school, he had outgrown the values of this society. Somehow in his own incestuous world, there were morals, more lust, more love. His world was fuller than the school could ever be and as he waved goodbye to Chad and slid into the car he couldn't help but smile. Goodbye private school, goodbye.


	9. Chapter 9

Sam stared out over the ocean, his eyes exploring the pink swirls as the clouds danced in the light of the dying sun. Things had shifted in the last few months; Sam's personality had grown along with Dean's as they explored the joys of freedom. The balance of their relationship was still shifting, boundaries still being tested and pushed. There was a strange sort of calm, the kind of calm that is accompanied not by blinding happiness but solid contentment, joy. The struggled only served to highlight the silver linings. Dean had changed drastically, becoming the kind of man Sam had always seen in him. The leather jacket had stayed and the eyeliner had been thrown away, along with several fishnet articles.

"Sam?" Dean's voice was thick, calling Sam from the recesses of his own mind. "You got something in the mail from your father." Sam moved from his position staring out the bay windows, turning his back on the ocean.

"Yeah, what do you think it is?" Sam bit his lip, dreading bad news.

"Probably something from your school, you did leave rather suddenly." Dean shrugged as he flopped onto the couch, his feet lifting to rest on the coffee table while the package fell to his chest with a soft thump.

"Yeah, let me see it." Sam rolled his eyes as he took the closest leather chair, Dean had picked the living room set and Sam was still pouting about the way the material clings to skin.

"Yeah, sure." Dean threw the small package, grinning when Sam caught it with ease. The tape was ripped away, falling to the floor like a ribbon. When the box was at last open Sam could only stare at his diploma. In shimmering letters his name was typed out, as though he had actually earned something.

"Really, this diploma is a lie, it's meaningless. My father paid for it, I didn't earn it." Sam frowned, wishing he could return to his younger years and actually chose to attend school.

"Sometimes lies still have meaning; it may not be the truth but it still holds value. Everything, including skipping school, has influenced you. Without this lie you wouldn't be the spoiled brat I've come to love." Dean was grinning, holding his hand out patiently for the framed certificate.

Sam was careful as he pulled the delicate silver frame from the box, resisting the urge to make a witty reply about the fact it had been bought at Tiffany's. After letting the frame rest in Dean's rough hands, Sam turned back to stare into the box. There in all of its glory was his high school yearbook. This was something that was not a lie, something that required photographic evidence. The leather book felt cool in his hands, the pages thick and heavy. Yes, this was his last reminder of the life had left behind for his brother. Flipping the pages open he came to a small photo on the sports page of him and Chad standing together, Sam's arm carelessly thrown over the blonde's shoulder. Their broad smiles did not reflect all of the moments they had shared, but the smiles were a perfect reminder that every situation can change in the blink of an eye. Enemies can be come allies, friends can become distant blurs, slaves can become rich, brothers can become lovers. The world was constantly evolving, shifting into something new and unexplored. Looking up Sam could only smile as he handed his brother the book, the page marked with his finger.

"This was a major part of my life, all of it was." Sam's smile pulled down slightly as he realized he could never return to the places and situations he had once called home.

"It was, but then again you used to be a top and now just look at you." Dean let his eyes provocatively run the length of his brother's body. "You practically scream bottom."

"Maybe, I just like being on bottom? But hey, if you want to be an ass about it, I'll wrestle you for top." Sam winked, letting his hand slide slowly up his own leg to tempt his brother.

The match was on only seconds later, limbs entangled, lips clashing with passionate kisses. Sam's legs wrapped around Dean, pulling him down against his chest. Heavy breathing and lust blown eyes greeted him.

"Look , you're just begging to be fucked." Dean gasped as he rolled his hips down roughly against his brother's ass.

"Or, I was tricking you." Sam threw his body to the side, causing Dean to tumble down to the floor. Effectively on top, Sam rolled his hips to bring his half hard cock against his brother's hard ass, suddenly cursing all of the binding clothing. His hand moved between their bodies, roughly pulling at his brother's belt until he could pull the leather free from the pants. Moving quickly he tied Dean's hands together, pulling the belt just tight enough to ensure the man could not escape.

"Kinky, Sammy, kinky." Dean was breathing into Sam's ear, the breath leaving a trail of goose bumps.

Everything was rushed; even in the many times they had fucked the urgency never changed. The lust was like a fire constantly smoldering, and the only way to put out the flames was to act on instinct alone. Sam's instincts demanded that he push into the sexy man under him as quickly as possible. Just the thought of that tight heat surrounding him made his dick twitch in excitement. Barely pausing to pull the button of Dean's pants free and to drag the zipper all the way down, Sam began to pull the thought pants down. As more skin came into view a moan escaped his lips, his eyes closing for a moment before he finally pulled Dean's boxers free from his body.

With his brother laid out and exposed, legs wrapped around Sam's waist, he had no choice but to lean back and take in the full view. Dean's puckered hole was just begging to be fucked, the tight opening calling to Sam. Reaching around, he found the lube hidden under the couch pillow, suddenly thankful for the multiple bottles around the house. With slicked fingers he circled his brother's hole before finally sinking knuckle deep into the man, his finger crooking in search of the sweet spot he knew was there. A tremble washed through Dean's body, a deep moan escaping his lips. Sam worked quickly, pushing another finger in and working to scissor them until he could at long last slide a third finger into the tight clutches of muscle. Even with all of his experience, Sam worried that he might blow his load simply from the sounds falling from his brother's lips.

His own clothes had been forgotten in the mess of want and need, now forcing him to slow down as he stared down at his brother's form. Dean was naked from the waist down, his legs spread wide, his chest heaving and his hands bound. This was a game they had played before, one where they allowed the sexual fantasies of Dean being a slave transpire. Dean was right, Sam had a bit of a kink going on. After what felt like a thousand seconds Sam was finally free to slide into his brother, his dick lubed and condom free. Sam didn't wait for his brother to adjust, diving right in with hard pointed thrusts. Dean liked things rough, consensual but rough. Really, they both had kinks.

Setting a mind numbing pace Sam could feel Dean's muscles fluttering around him, his back arching and his eyes slamming closed. Hot cum spilled against Sam's bare chest and along Dean's shirt. It was only seconds later that Sam finished, filling his brother with his very essence. Rolling off, Sam fell to the ground beside his lover. His chest was heaving and for a moment words were gone. He had peace, his mind clear of all the memories and regrets of high school that his yearbook had brought back. As the moment passed a slow, easy smirk pulled at his lips. Reaching over Sam loosened the belt and pulled Dean's hands free.

"For being a top you sure do finish fast when you're on bottom." Sam let his head fall to the side to stare at his brother.

"Just be glad I let you fuck me, bitch." Dean was trying to hide his smile but the twinkle in his eyes gave away the affectionate feelings radiating out of his chest.

"Just be glad I did fuck you, jerk." Sam chuckled, too blissfully happy to consider any other life he may have had. Here, lying on the floor next to his fucked out brother, was exactly where he belonged.

The End

(A/N: So…this is the end. It was a long time coming and I feel really bad for everyone who started reading and then had to wait months for the ending. Hopefully, you'll forgive me. If not, you can always rant to me in a review and maybe tell me what you thought of the ending. A massive thanks goes to MissTripTucker who is not only my beta but a wonderful friend.)


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